


Missing Scene - Nemesis, Small Victories

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s03e22 Nemesis, Episode: s04e01 Small Victories, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9438089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: Exactly what it says





	

Damn! Damn! Damn! Why can they not follow orders? Did I not say, specifically, that they were not to beam up to Thor’s ship? I took my frustration out on the bugs, shooting the shit out of them with relish.

I didn’t want them here, partly because I knew they would be safe and alive but also because I could die knowing that he would not be left alone. Again. 

Thanks to my two stubborn team mates, our fourth is gonna be the only survivor of SG-1. A helluva thing to have to live with. And even though he has toughened up over the years, I’m very much afraid this will simply destroy him. His latest scar is still too fresh, too painful; he has yet to regain his balance from that tragedy. He doesn’t need this on top of that.

I forced myself not to ask about him, leave him a message when I ‘beamed down.’ Thank God he wasn’t there in the briefing room. I just hope the doc keeps Daniel locked up in the infirmary; I don’t want him to be anywhere but peacefully asleep when we get blown all to hell. 

 

*

As if I don’t have enough to worry about with one unruly patient, Thor is acting up. Refusing to let Carter put him in stasis, trying to help even though he’s dying; I didn’t think those two spent enough time together to rub off on each other. But I could be wrong.

Can this day get any worse? We’re actually gonna launch Teal’c into orbit? I almost grab him, pull him back as he walks into the airlock. Then he makes that ‘one small step’ crack; I see he’s been studying history again. 

Once Teal’c found out that Daniel was willing to teach him, he latched onto the prospect like he was starved for knowledge. I suppose he was. In his world, education was doled out sparingly, only to those deemed ‘worthy’. As a warrior, the only education Teal’c was allowed was what would have aided in his position as first prime. Battle strategy, arms knowledge and usage and physical training were his curriculum. That’s one of the reasons Teal’c reveres Daniel; I can think of no other word to accurately describe his feelings. Someone like Daniel, in Jaffa culture, would have been revered and those selected for the honor of protecting scholars would have laid down their life willingly to protect said scholar. I’m sensing a pattern here.

Teal’c soaked up knowledge like a sponge. History and culture, which came easily to his teacher. Some of the science stuff Daniel was okay with, for the rest he solicited Carter’s assistance. Fraiser gave him some medical details, far more than I would ever have wanted to know. Now, if he wants to learn the important stuff, like sports and TV, the real culture, I’m the man.

*

I don’t know why I freaked when I thought Teal’c was dead; we’re all gonna buy it on this one anyway. Technically, I didn’t really freak, let’s just say I was a tad concerned. Unlike Teal’c, who wasn’t at all concerned as he calmly reminded us that Thor was correct and that we were all going to die when the ship started descending into Earth’s atmosphere. If the crash doesn’t kill us, we’re gonna get shot out of the sky by our own folks. Kind of ironic there, the same people we have been defending for years are gonna blow us up.

I reiterate that I hope and pray Daniel is nowhere near the command center when this goes down. I just don’t want to think about him sitting there while good ol’ George gives the order to barbecue our asses. This is one time I appreciate Frasier’s hard-nose attitude, she won’t let Daniel step even one little toe out of that infirmary until he is well and truly healed.

*

Six days! Six fucking days! I mean, come on, guys. How long could it possibly take to move one ring of stone, albeit a fairly large one, into one mountain and plug it in? The irony here is that if Carter had done as I ordered her to, she’d have been there to set the gate up and I’d have been home in my own little bed days ago. Instead, I’m stuck on this god-forsaken planet with Tweedledee and Tweedledum. A two man comedy team, these two are. A laugh riot. I could hardly sleep at night for all the excitement. 

Now if Daniel had been here…okay, let’s not go there. Because if Daniel had been here, I would probably have done what I wanted to that day in the infirmary. Looking at him lying there so pale and interesting, wondering who shaved him, because I damn sure know he wasn’t up to wielding any type of sharp object, all I could think of was that I wished I had the nerve to kiss him. He, well, he looked like he needed it. Really needed it. Not that I needed it, I didn’t. I’m just thinking of Daniel, here. Really.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that one, O’Neill! The truth is, I’ve thought both seriously and not-so-seriously about kissing the shit out of Daniel for quite awhile now. And I’m blaming it all on Daniel, the little flirt. I mean, come on, I thought Aris Boch, hard-assed bounty hunter, was gonna jump his bones right there on his ship. I know I almost did when he made with the big calf eyes. 

To add insult to injury, just a few nights later, I walked into Fraiser’s house and saw a slightly inebriated Carter planted firmly on Daniel’s lap, her arms twined around his neck. She swore she was just giving him her Christmas list, but I don’t think that shade of lipstick was at all flattering to Daniel. His fingers were hooked in her belt loops and my first thought was that should have been me he had those hands on.

Then there came the dreams when I shut his constantly yapping mouth in a most satisfying way. My most cherished fantasy would be right there in the briefing room. I bet he wouldn’t be able to talk for five minutes. If only.

*

And if the gate doesn’t work today, I’m gonna start shooting anything that moves. I swear, I’m not kidding!

Finally, we got wormhole! Get with the GDO there, Carter. We’ve got a Daniel to make nice with. Because while we’ve been living it up here on Planet Boringwood, Daniel’s been thinking that we bought it in a blaze of videotaped glory that I know he’s watched over and over again. And if he hasn’t been eating or sleeping, I’ve got a week’s worth of mad pointed straight at a certain rather petite doctor. He damn well better be up and around and flushed with excitement when we step through the wormhole.

I usually take the six, but today I’m on point. I’m like a bloodhound on a Daniel-trail. I hop friskily through and the first thing I see is my boy. Okay, that may possibly qualify as up and around, but he is not flushed with anything even remotely resembling excitement. In fact, his color is unimproved since I saw him last; I foresee a short to-the-point talk in Doc Fraiser’s immediate future. So not jumping him in the gate room, even if that is cherished fantasy number three. Number two involves the general’s office, only I’m the general and Daniel is…oh, never mind.

I walk right up to him and make my usual lame joke, hoping to see a little twinkle in those eyes, big with exhaustion and worry and probably pain. Then he reaches for Teal’c’s soul patch and I can’t stop myself; I grab his hand and give him my patented ‘trust me’ look. With a little grin, I gently feed him a line about taking a badly needed shower and he plays it perfectly, dead on timing with a little quirk of his lips and the sweetly innocent eyes. I can’t trust myself to touch him as I walk by as close as I dare, but Teal’c is obviously a better man than me, reassuring Daniel with a gentle hand that we’re all okay.

*

I am absolutely frantic. Appreciate Thor rescuing T and me and all that, but why couldn’t he have beamed us back down to the command center instead of the SGC? Or beam Daniel our way? No, the oh-so-helpful Thor dropped us on our asses in Colorado and then hauled his little gray one away to parts unknown. When we tried to call and let them, insert Daniel’s name here, know that we were alright, we couldn’t get through. Goddammit, tell me that wasn’t a busy signal? Carter theorizes that the boom of the sub blowing up is disrupting the atmosphere or some such nonsense. I don’t care, I want to talk to Daniel and I mean five minutes ago.

“Colonel, relax. Why don’t you go get something to eat? I will notify you the second communication is restored.” I give George the you-have-got-to-be-kidding look. Not leaving here until I hear Daniel’s voice. And he hears mine.

“Sir, I’ve got Major Davis on the line.” Walter leans in the open doorway.

The general practically leaps on the phone. “Major Davis? I need to speak to Dr. Jackson immediately.” George pauses and frowns. “Get Dr. Fraiser on the line then.” I pace as we both wait. “Dr. Fraiser, what’s Dr. Jackson’s status? I believe he’ll want to take this call. Well, then can you take the phone to him?” George covers the phone with his hand. “She made him lie down. Wanted to sedate him, but…. Dr. Jackson, I’ve got someone here for you.”

I snatch the phone from his hand. “Hey, Daniel.” Complete silence greets me before I hear the unmistakable sound of a phone being dropped. “Daniel? Dammit, say something!”

“Colonel O’Neill.” That is not Daniel’s voice.

“Doc, what’s wrong?”

“He’s just a little overcome right now.” Her voice takes on a smarmy tone of satisfaction. “I did advise that Dr. Jackson not be part of this mission, didn’t I? Please put the general back on.”

I snarl and hand the phone over, listening unabashedly to his end of the conversation. “If you think it best, Doctor, I will of course agree. Shall I connect you with the infirmary?” The general pushes the necessary buttons. “The Pentagon jet is bringing Dr. Jackson home. Dr. Fraiser wants him back in the infirmary, at least overnight. Colonel, I know how you feel, but please try to think of Dr. Jackson. He’s had a rough few weeks and he needs your support, which I trust you will supply?”

“Yes, sir,” I agree testily. He is, of course, right. The last thing Daniel needs is me bitching at him.

His voice softens; he’s as relieved as I am that Daniel is on his way home. “Take a shower, Jack, get something to eat. He won’t be here before 14:30. You can ride the chopper out to Petersen.” 

*

The chopper can’t fly fast enough for me. Teal’c and I are out and running almost before it lands. There on the tarmac, jacket and hair ruffled from the rotor blades, stands Daniel, hands jammed in his pockets. Damn, he looks like he’s in pain but that’s not all. He’s had way too much time to think about how close it was. Guilt is so not a good look for him. 

Although I want to grab him up and hug the life out of him, I know him well enough to know that’s not such a great idea. If he’s close to breaking, which I figure he is, he certainly won’t want to do so in public. I have to satisfy myself with a hand on his back, rubbing gently.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I almost killed you guys.”

“Nope, not even close. Didn’t even singe a hair on my head.” Leaning in close, I whisper. “And Teal’c, well, to tell the truth I wish you’d singed his chin bob. Can you ask him what the hell that’s all about, get him to confide in you?”

He almost laughs so I step aside and let Teal’c check him out. The big guy fearlessly takes Daniel’s arms, insinuates himself into his personal space and questions his prey softly but purposefully. I see Daniel shake his head a couple of times before he finally nods, his face clears up just a bit. 

“Daniel? Come on, we need to get you back to base.”

Teal’c beats the doc by a solid few seconds and gets the honor of helping load him onto the chopper. I fool them both by swinging in after him and claiming the seat right beside him. “Let me help you with that,” I see him fumbling with the seat belt. “Not too tight on your scar there?”

“I’m fine.” 

Yeah, sure you are, original tough guy over there. “Take a nap.”

“Jack, we’re like five minutes from the mountain.”

“So take a cat nap.”

*

He’s out in seconds. I try to ease him into a more comfortable position, but he jerks, leaning the other way. He’s never been wild about public displays of affection so I guess I’ll cut him some slack.

“How is he?” I look up to see Major Davis taking the seat across from me. “He was…quite distraught after the sub blew, sir. None of us saw the Asgard beam, except him. He was fairly insistent that you were fine. Until we ran the tape, we thought....”

“Wishful thinking?”

“Something like that, sir. You know, I told General Hammond I spend all day reading mission reports. Up to now, it’s just been words on paper. But after today…”

“Kind of became real today?” Davis just might be the one guy in the Pentagon with a heart.

“You could say that.” He glances briefly at Daniel and I see a genuine concern in his eyes. “He didn’t want to do it, you know, sir. He fought it until the end.”

“I know.” God forbid it ever goes the other way and I have to make the decision to end his life. I drape my jacket over him and he automatically pulls away again.

*

Well, all is right with the world. Daniel is back in his usual bed in the infirmary with Teal’c riding shotgun while the rest of us are in the briefing room. Carter gives us a rundown about her adventures in Asgard-land.

“So, basically, you and Daniel both blew me up in one day? Sweet.”

Carter smiles with a decidedly nasty gleam in her eye. “So it would seem, sir.” She seems about to say something else but halts when Fraiser enters.

“Dr. Fraiser, what can you tell us about your patients?”

“Teal’c suffered a laceration on his shoulder requiring five stitches. He’ll be fine. Dr. Jackson is exhausted, his temperature is up and his blood pressure is down. I will be keeping him until both are within normal ranges.” 

Hammond responds to her cool tone. “I approved sending Dr. Jackson on this mission because I felt his experience was needed at the command center.”

“I understand that, sir. But Dr. Jackson was already under far too much pressure. After the stress he has suffered over the past few months, he should never have been asked to make the decision to torpedo the sub. Emotionally and physically, he simply wasn’t up to the task. He hesitated, second guessed his command, blamed himself afterward and very nearly collapsed. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if the Asgard hadn’t intervened.” 

“I should have taken the decision out of his hands, General. I knew, I could see he was struggling. If there’s a fault here, it’s mine.” Davis speaks up.

“I appreciate that, Major, but it was my decision to have Dr. Jackson on this mission. He was my first choice to head operations at the command center. However, none of us could have foreseen the decisions that had to be made.”

“I made him do it, sir. I ordered Daniel to launch the torpedoes.”

“And I’ve ordered all of you into situations that essentially did the same thing, Colonel. Perhaps we all should have thought a bit more than we did. Sometimes we lose sight of the fact that he’s not a soldier. Ultimately, he’s a civilian who has been forced, both by the Air Force and by circumstances, to perform a soldier’s duties. And I would like to say, for the record, that Dr. Jackson makes a damn fine soldier.”

I can’t even come up with a smart-ass quip. Because I agree with George. We’re all guilty; we’ve strapped a gun on him and basically turned him into GI-Daniel.

*

Daniel was asleep when I checked on him and Fraiser made me leave him alone. Geez, it wasn’t like I was gonna wake him up or anything, I just wanted to see him, make sure he was okay. She doesn’t buy that, threatens to have me tossed out if I don’t leave voluntarily. I don’t exactly call being threatened as voluntary but she is the one holding an instrument that might fit snugly in a certain part of my anatomy. So I leave. With instructions that she is to call me if anything, I mean anything, happens. 

So here I am in my office, trying to figure out if Daniel’s reactions mean what I hope they mean. I mean, how can I find out if he loves me? Ask him? Yeah, like that will happen. This isn’t high school, where I can stick a note in his schoolbooks or waylay him after home room. I idly wonder what high school was like for Daniel; he doesn’t talk about that part of his life. Ever. For him, there is a huge chasm between eight-years-old and when he followed Catherine in out of the pouring rain.

I’d be willing to bet his high school days were a nightmare. He was skinny and gawky with glasses and an IQ that blasted him past everyone else in the building, up to and probably including the teachers. He’s the kind of guy that everyone looked right through in high school and then you saw at the twenty year reunion and thought ‘where did he come from?’ because he finally grew into his looks. And then all those people who were mean to him were green with envy, because it’s apparent he outclassed all of them. He’s successful and looks it. And all the teachers are saying ‘yeah, we knew it all along.’

I was the guy everyone knew and liked in high school and when they saw me at the reunion, probably thought ‘same old Jack.’ And the teachers are thinking ‘I can’t believe he hasn’t killed someone by now.’ Another one of those little oddities of life; Daniel and I both proved those teachers right.

So I’m back to trying to figure Daniel out. I could just ask him straight out, he’d probably appreciate my honesty. The whole time he’s either laughing in my face or trying to let me down easy. Must think on this subject. 

Meanwhile, I think I’ll sneak down to see Daniel. The aggravating Fraiser thing is just a serendipitous side-effect.

*

Looks like I arrived just in time. Daniel is awake and arguing with what even I can see is total desperation. I could stand and watch as he ruthlessly annihilates Fraiser’s arguments but I decide to let them both off the hook. “Hey, I’ll bet Thor can hear you two. Either pipe down or kiss and make up.”

I get two pairs of furious eyes turned my way. Yep, just as I thought, those blue eyes have more than a touch of desperation in them. “Jack, will you please tell Dr. Fraiser,” hey, kid, watch that tone, “that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. At my house. By myself.”

Taking a deep breath, I wade in. “Doc,” I motion for her to follow me over. “Listen, does he really have to stay? Truthfully. Or do you just want to keep an eye on him.”

She wavers, as I suspected she would. “Medically, there’s not much wrong with him. However...”

“However, he’s had his appendix yanked out, rather suddenly. Then he spent a week thinking his team was dead. Then he had to give the order to blow up his best friends. I get that. But I also get that he doesn’t need to be here, he needs to be out in the sunshine and the real world. He needs to be somewhere there aren’t replicators and exploding subs. Let me take him home and I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Glancing back over, she bites her lip at the way his hands are nervously pleating the covers. “Okay, Colonel, you win. But no alcohol of any kind, is that clear? Please try to at least limit the caffeine, if that’s possible.”

I snort. “Yeah, like that will happen.” I’m betting she cut him off cold turkey while he was a guest in the infirmary but once he got out of her clutches, he probably dove head first into the first available coffeepot.

*

An hour later, Daniel and I are sitting in my driveway. “Okay, my place or yours?”

He turns to me with a growl. “What?”

“Do you want to stay at my place with me or do you want me to stay at your place with you? Multiple choice, Daniel, is a wonderful thing.”

“How about I stay at my place by myself and you stay at your place by yourself?”

“Hmmm, I don’t think that was one of the choices. No, almost certain that was neither A nor B. Don’t remember a C.” I halt his tirade with a shake of my head. “Two choices, Daniel. That’s what you’ve got. Now, do we go in here and get comfy or do you wait while I pack a bag to take to your place?”

He pouts for a few minutes, and I dare anyone to tell me that expression is not a pout. Finally, he sighs. “Pack a bag. I want to go home.”

“That’s more like it.” I turn the truck off and start to get out.

“Don’t trust me with the keys? Afraid I’ll take off?” He snarls.

“No, but I need the key to get into the house.” I explain gently. He looks embarrassed that he leaped to that conclusion. “Take it easy, Daniel. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

*

It’s closer to fifteen minutes by the time I do a few things I can’t put off, pack a bag and head out, only to find he’s laid his seat all the way back. “Sorry,” I apologize as he jolts but there’s no way to start the truck without making any noise. “Go back to sleep, you’ll be home before you know it.”

Looking dangerously like a child awakened from an afternoon nap, he frowns in confusion and burrows down again. 

*

Unfortunately, I have to wake him again once we get to his apartment. He stumbles toward the lobby, then the elevator, while I follow. I take the keys out of his hand and get us in, gently shoving him in front of me before I lock up behind us. He heads unerringly for the kitchen, I suspect he’s homing in on the coffeemaker. I know I promised Fraiser, but I figure he needs this, so I leave him to it, taking my bag into the spare room before trailing him into the kitchen to see what he might have to eat. 

I suppose I should have made a grocery store stop but it actually never occurred to me that he probably hasn’t left the base at all since we’ve been AWOL. Maybe I can con Carter into doing a run for us; all I have to do is give her a pitiful Daniel story and she’ll probably do it. For him, anyway. He just has that about him. People are always wanting to do him favors and he honestly doesn’t see why.

Opening his fridge, I spy a lone beer and snag it. Yeah, someone’s definitely gonna have to go shopping. “So, dinner?”

“Huh?” He blinks at me like he just realized I was here.

“What do you want to order for dinner?” I speak slowly and enunciate well.

“Uh,” he reaches over the counter and snags a couple of take away menus.

I nip them out of his hand. “How’s the Italian place?”

“Good.”

“Then it’s Italian.” I grab the phone and call the order in. 

*

He takes advantage of the time by taking a shower, pottering around his place, probably thinking I haven’t noticed how slowly he is moving. I suspect he’s the only one who doesn’t realized he still has some healing to do. But having a big hole cut in your side isn’t something you bounce back from. Especially after the whole ruptured appendix and massive infection thing. 

I grab the bags from the delivery girl, who seems disappointed when I answered the door. I guess she was expecting the good doctor. Sorry, my dear, I smirk silently at her as I tip her and send her along.

“Daniel. Dinner’s here.” I spread the dinner across the table that isn’t covered in books and papers. Anyone who thinks Daniel is predictable should get a load of his apartment. Two dinner tables, a bed on a stage and swords all over the walls. 

He stops short when he spies the soda bottles sitting on the table. “Jack.”

“Daniel.” I feign ignorance.

“I can open a bottle of wine.” He starts back into the kitchen.

“No, you can’t. If there is one thing I remember from the good doctor’s lecture, it was no alcohol.”

He calls out persuasively. “It’s just wine.”

“Yes and it’s still alcohol and I promised. Grab some glasses and ice.” I have his dinner opened when he grudgingly returns and pours the soft drinks. 

We eat in silence punctuated by a conversation of grunts and groans as befit grown adult men. Daniel reaches for the dishes and I slap his hands away, pointing emphatically toward the living room couch. The fact that he gives only a token argument tells me he has just about hit the wall, endurance-wise. Perfect. I’ve got him just where I want him. Besides, I can load a dishwasher with the best of them; I was married, after all. 

He’s spread out all over the larger of the couches when I lope back into the living room. “Hey, why don’t you go to bed?”

He squints at the clock. “It isn’t even six o’clock.”

“And you’re tired and still recovering from surgery. Among other things. I don’t think the world is going to collapse if you take the night off.”

His head falls heavily onto the back of the couch as he yawns. “Don’t tempt me.”

“A little temptation might just do you a world of good.” I remark as I sling him a quilt before sitting. I hide my amusement as he kicks off his shoes, deposits his glasses on the table and wriggles around until he is comfortable under the quilt. I wait until he’s comfortable and sleepy before I pounce. “Daniel?”

“Hmmm?”

Hell, there is no easy way to do this but just to blurt it out. “Do you love me?”

He comes up, blinking and gawking much like a child. “What?”

“It’s a simple question. Do you love me? Yes or no.”

“Yes, of course I do.” If he thinks he can just bluff his way through this, he’s mistaken.

“I don’t mean like you love Carter or Teal’c or the general. Paul Davis said you were,” I fumble to recall the word, “distraught when you thought you’d killed us.” His face blanches even whiter and I think I have my answer as he fights to disentangle himself, prior to getting the hell away from me. I lean back and observe smugly, “I’ll be on you before you make it to the doorway but you’re welcome to try.”

“Jack,” his voice is agonized. “Don’t do this. I don’t…”

“What? Don’t love me? Sorry, that ship’s already left the harbor. And just for the record, this isn’t exactly a one-way street. I’ve been fighting this for a while, too.”

He gapes at me, completely speechless so I take the opportunity to plant myself on the low coffee table. “Jack, this is..we can’t…the Air Force…” He can’t seem to field a coherent sentence. I raise not quite steady hands and cup his face, my thumbs stroking his dreamy mouth. His eyes drop and he sighs heavily. 

And it’s no use, I have to kiss him. He doesn’t struggle as I pull him closer, kiss him with the barest of touches. His breath is ragged and uneven when I return again and again to taste his lips in quick, flitting touches. We are both experimenting, finding out how the other tastes, how our lips fit together. His response is tentative, nearly shy. I’m smiling inside as he unerringly follows when I draw back, seeking yet another kiss. I give him a long, lasting kiss before I sit back, wait for those eyes to fly open, for him to realize what just happened, how much of his hidden self he just revealed.

He doesn’t disappoint me. His eyes fly wide, panicked. “Jack.” 

“When I was up there floating around with Thor, I was glad that you weren’t there, that you were safe and alive.” His eyes brighten suspiciously and he blinks to keep the tears at bay. One escapes to meander slowly down his cheek. I track its path with my finger. “I was glad you weren’t with me.”

“I wish I had been.” He confesses.

“Yeah, Hammond told me how you made a break from Fraiser when you should have still been in bed, all tucked up. Like you should be right now.”

“No,” he protests.

“Come on, I’ll tuck you in and read you a bedtime story.”

He wants to argue some more but he’s exhausted and confused and has had way too much on his mind for way too long. He’s starting to really slow down now so I help him up, slide my arm around his waist, telling my wayward hand to stay where it is and not slide down that lovely ass. He flinches and I realize while I was trying not to get too friendly, I was causing him actual pain, probably had been handling his scar. I release him quickly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you. Why don’t you go on, get yourself in bed?” 

I watch him make his cautious way toward the bedroom before I head for the kitchen to put on water for tea. I know he’s got some non-caffeinated tea in here, fumbling around his cabinets. Yeah, here it is. I fix a tray while I wait for the kettle to boil. I also happen to know how to fix a decent cup of tea, thanks to Sarah. I know to warm the pot with hot water before fixing a pot, to let it steep, to not ruin the taste with milk.

He’s in bed, although he doesn’t appear too happy about it. I set the tea tray down and hand him a cup. His expression tells me it had better be coffee. “Sorry, the tea canister jumped right out before I could get to the coffeemaker.”

“Ha,” he jibes, but sips his tea obediently. I play with my cup and pretend not to be checking him out. “I’m not fragile, Jack.”

I don’t know why but he always surprises me with his perception. “I know, Daniel. Can’t I just be worried about you?”

“That’s allowed.”

“Thanks for the permission,” I drawl coolly. 

We drink in silence for a few minutes. “Did you plan this?”

“This?”

“This ambush?”

I frown. “I wouldn’t exactly call it an ambush.”

His eyes narrow. “You wait until this particular moment to tell me you love me, knowing I can’t…can’t..” Words fail him.

“Can’t what?” I am thoroughly enjoying his mortification.

“Can’t have sex!” He blurts out.

“Yes.” I reply honestly. “I wanted you to know it wasn’t just about the sex for me. I’d love to make love to you here and now and I can’t. I know that. But I want you to know that’s your decision. When we take that step, I mean.” He digests that. “So can I see your scar now?”

He actually blushes. “No.”

“Aw, come on, I saved the world and everything.”

With an exaggerated sigh, he pushes the covers aside and eases the elastic waist of his sweats down. I lean close and investigate. It’s small, only a few inches long and still seems red and angry against a very white stomach. “Does it still hurt?”

“No.” I’m betting that’s a lie.

Before he realizes what’s going on, I press a gentle kiss there and feel him jolt under me. “Feel better now?”

He eyes me suspiciously before covering up again, pulling the quilt up to his shoulders, just in case. “I suppose so,” he answers grudgingly.

“Good, then I’ll just turn out this light.”

He starts to object but a yawn gets the best of him. I lean over to switch off the light, take his cup before giving him a quick kiss. At least, it starts out that way, but it soon progresses into something more. Daniel is warm and sleepy and responsive and defenseless and if I don’t leave him right now, I’ll be forgetting all those good intentions I promised myself I’d keep. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” I gather up the tea stuff and retreat to the kitchen.

And suddenly I find myself grinning foolishly. Here I’ve gone and fallen for a man who can be as skittish as a newborn colt. Not about the sex, I kinda think he can handle that pretty well. No, it’s the love part that scares him down to the bone. Love and Daniel Jackson haven’t exactly been the best of friends in the past.

But that’s something I aim to change.


End file.
